Three Weeks Later

Chris sat at his kitchen counter looking at the pile of brochures in front of him. It seemed as though he had been staring at them for weeks, but was still no closer to a resolution. It was always like this when it came to making a vacation decision. Maybe if I took more vacations, he thought to himself, it would be easier to pick a destination.

There was a part of him that really wanted to see mountains, but the only things in Palm Beach that had anything remotely to do with mountains were the basically flat paths labeled 'mountain bike trails', and those definitely didn't suffice. Therefore, he was focusing on places out West, like Colorado and Utah. Chris had a desire to ski - he had never done it before, but loved to watch it in the Winter Olympics - so this time of year seemed ideal for the trip.

The knock at his door broke his train of thought and he straightened up. It was either the pizza he had ordered or it was Rita, who was coming over to share it with him. "Hey Chris, it's me!" he heard her announce, just before she opened the door and came in.

"Hi Rita," he got up from the stool and walked over to her. He gave her a hug, took her jacket - it had been unseasonably cool the last few nights - and hung it on the rack. "Thanks for coming over. Dinner should be here any minute. I hope you're hungry because it's a large-for-a-medium-price tonight."

"Large for a medium? You really know how to spoil a girl," she replied, laughing and walking over to the counter to peruse the spread of papers. "It's pretty chilly outside, so actually, eating pizza in sounds great. Thanks for the invite. What did you do today?"

He stood beside her as she shuffled through the brochures. "Oh, you know, typical Sunday stuff. Some laundry, some housekeeping. I went for a run this morning, did a few rounds on the heavy bag, and cleaned the pistols after yesterday's time at the range. I also ran to the store and picked up a couple of things. You?"

"Laundry and cleaning as well, but Sunday is a rest day, so that's what I tried to do. Friday afternoon was the last PT session for my abs, and I was very sore yesterday, so I took it easy. I feel a little better today and should be ready to carry it forward on my own - maybe with a little help from a good partner. Know anyone?" she added with a smirk and a wink.

Chris laughed, "I have the name of somebody. Are you alright with me looking again?"

It had been almost two months since the closing of the Garcia-Schmidt murders and the brutal attack that nearly killed Rita. The incident had rocked the department and Chris especially. Her recovery had gone well, but it came with a price. Rita missed a full month of work and then re-qualified with her firearm, but nearly lost it when apprehending a criminal her first week back. She was forced to attend training in hand-to-hand combat, which led to the discovery of two dirty cops and again put her life in danger. Fortunately, all turned out well - despite a brief suspension - and she had not been injured a second time, but it had been a near thing.

"Chris, I'm doing well, nearly back to one-hundred percent. You don't have to worry. But yeah, you can take a peek." She lifted up her sweater to just below her chest and Chris looked at her belly and gently ran a hand over the fading scar. She felt a little shiver as goosebumps formed on her arms and her back. She knew better than to allow that when he touched her, but couldn't help it when he did.

"Oh, Rita, it looks fantastic! The surgeons did their best work on you. It's almost completely gone."

"Yeah, it's getting harder to see, but I'm glad for the reminder," she said, looking down at the floor. "I don't ever want to forget what you did for me."

"Hey, I tried to do what any good partner would - keep you safe."

"Well, you did a lot more than that. You saved my life twice in the span of twenty-four hours. Don't get all big-headed about it, but don't sell yourself short, either. Captain Lipschitz sure didn't, which is why you have that medal." She paused before continuing, "So, have you finally decided on a vacation spot?"

"No, and I was hoping to get a recommendation from you. Are you feeling good enough for me to go?"

It had been three weeks since Captain Lipschitz had received approval for Chris' bonus week of vacation, the result of his good work in the Garcia-Schmidt murders. He had initially been grateful for the department's generosity, but had later reconsidered, thinking the Captain had birthed the idea simply out of sympathy for the suffering his partner had endured.

"Of course I'm fine. Look at me. I'm good and I want you to go. You earned it! But let me ask you - are you alright to go?"

For Chris, the nightmares had been the worst. That first night Rita had returned home from the hospital, Chris stayed with her and slept on the couch, just to make sure she was all right. But it was he that struggled the most, dreaming he was on her staircase watching while her assailant, an evil killer named Castellana, pulled out his knife and stabbed her repeatedly. As she died, her screams became his own and he woke yelling her name. Rita had raced out of her room, offering reassurance and comfort and confirming it was only a dream, but it seemed so real to him.

It was the first of numerous sleepless nights. The dreams were always the same - Rita attacked and killed by her attacker. It got to the point that Chris feared going to sleep. He told no one about it except Rita, choosing to work through the issue himself. She noticed that he had become much more protective of her, afraid of letting her out of his sight. Rita really appreciated the attention, but he was becoming a bit clingy.

Chris thought for a moment and said, "I'm not sure about it now. I think I should put it off until later. It still doesn't feel right for..."

"Chris...no. We had this discussion already. The Captain gave you that bonus time for good work, not because of what happened to me. You earned it. I got a bonus week, too, and not because I was attacked. We broke up a major drug-trafficking pipeline. The ringleader is dead and gone and her number-two man could be facing the death penalty. This would have qualified as a major federal case, and we solved it. So yeah, I think we earned a little something extra."

She thought for a moment and added, "And to make sure you take the time, maybe I..." Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Rita turned to answer it, but Chris took her arm and said with a quick smile, "No, that's alright, Sam, I'll get it." He pulled out his wallet and went to the door, leaving his suddenly very exasperated partner standing there. He paid for the pizza, tipped the delivery guy and told him thanks, then turned around to see Rita scowling at him with her hands on her hips.

"Alright Chris, that's enough!"

"Wha..."

"Don't give me that 'what'! You and I both know exactly what you did! It was the pizza guy, Chris, not a hit man. I appreciate so much you wanting to protect me, but give it a rest! You're starting to get a bit ridiculous and a little overbearing. I'm not a child, and there is almost no one in the world that will knock on our doors seeking to kill me - or you."

Chris took one feeble attempt to deflect. "That's not it at all. Actually, I just wanted to pay..."

"Don't lie to me, Chris! Maybe you did want to pay, but that is not 'just' what you were doing. You answer the door for me at my place now. You insist on walking through doors and around corners before I do. You've done everything but a pat-down search on the paperboy when I'm around."

She softened her tone and walked over to him. "Look, I know what happened to me was awful for you, too. You still feel partly responsible, even though you aren't. You told me about the dreams, and I suggested you talk to someone - a counselor, a psychiatrist, that hospital chaplain, anyone. You need to get past this." Then she smiled and put her arm around him. "You're fortunate I'm such a gracious partner that loves you and continues to put up with you."

"I'm sorry, Rita. I'll try to conquer the over-protectionist-dad syndrome." He paused. "You still want to stay and eat with me?"

"Of course I do. I love your company and I'm starved." She smiled. "I'm not really mad at you. I just want you to ease up a bit, ok?" She kissed his cheek. "Everything is going to be fine."

They sat down, dug into their pizza, and pored over the brochures. Chris was very interested in Breckenridge and Copper Mountain, but Rita thought he would love Park City, Utah. She had always wanted to see Salt Lake City and its famous lake, and Park City was right there.

She continued to study the Park City brochure. "And look at all the ski places they have. You could be there a week and ski a different set of runs every day. As I was saying before the pizza guy showed up, if you can't make yourself take the time, maybe I can take my week and go with you."

Chris immediately perked up and he looked at her, eyes wide with anticipation, "Really? You would go with me?"

Rita smiled that you-know-better smile and answered, "Sure. All you need to do is let the Captain know we're going together and get him to sign off. I'm sure he'll have pen in hand..."

Chris laughed and nodded, "Yeah, you're right. Harry would never allow it. I guess I'll just have to dream about you out there," he said with a chuckle. "So you have me leaning towards Park City now. I think that might be my choice. I can't get everything arranged this week, but maybe next week."

Rita offered to help him with plane tickets and hotel reservations. "I have a friend who is a travel agent, and she is always hitting me up with travel deals. If you want, we can take the lunch hour tomorrow and talk with her - see what she might be able to package together. Is that alright?"

Chris gave her a sidelong glance, "Now who's being motherly?"

"Don't you dare, Christopher," she laughed. "I think it's movie time. What should we watch?"

Rather than dig into the archives, they decided on a newer release and chose The Fugitive, which Chris had just purchased. Neither of them had seen it yet and both were fans of Harrison Ford. Chris made up a big batch of popcorn - lightly salted and buttered, just the way she liked it - and they sat down in front of the TV.

Rita shivered a bit, so Chris grabbed a blanket and threw it over her. Once again, she curled up and snuggled into him. Yeah, he thought, she should not go with me. It was becoming more of a challenge to keep things above-board in normal, every-day situations. In a vacation setting, with beautiful surroundings and no oversight of any kind, it would be nearly impossible to remain platonic around her. Then he would probably overstep their boundaries and she would reject his advances, and things would be awkward for a while. He put his arm around her, kept it in one place, and enjoyed the movie.

By nine, Rita was out the door and headed toward her place on the beach. She worked through traffic, laughing at the thought of them vacationing together. She felt a twinge of excitement when Chris responded so positively to her suggestion, but there was no way they could share a room, even one with two beds. Even separate rooms were probably too close. It was sometimes difficult to keep her hands off him in the office, and there were times he simply melted her heart - along with the barriers that protected her libido. By themselves at a ski resort - with snow and fireplaces and hot tubs and wine - she would be a goner.

At ten, Chris called to make sure she was all right, giving the excuse of needing the travel agent's name and number. "Go to bed, Chris. I'm fine!" she said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head, while smiling at his continued hovering.